


Downfall

by Popcorn_Lover



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-04 11:17:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6655780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Popcorn_Lover/pseuds/Popcorn_Lover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If you are not careful, the Holmes Boys WILL be your downfall."<br/>What Molly's superior did not know was that they already were a long time ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing of Sherlock BBC.

“Why do you want to see me for, Molls?" Jim winked at her across the table. Jim from IT looked different from his usual self, wearing a suit and all but Molly was not surprised for she knew exactly who Jim Moriarty was. Molly got her eye on him for quite some time already. In the crowded little café called Fox, other patrons were busy talking with their friends to not notice a very dangerous criminal sitting among them.

“IOU, Sherlock being mumbling that for hours now which I assumed he was thinking out loud and let’s just say I’m concerned. Whatever you are going to threaten him with, he would get away with it and you would only end up getting played by Sherlock Holmes. I don’t think you would like that very much so for your own sake, kill yourself because if you are still alive then how is he going to die?” Molly explained the situation to him in simple terms but Moriarty is smart, a psychopath nonetheless, and he would understand.

“Sneaky, sneaky little Molly, not so mousy after all huh?” Moriarty was shaking with laughter and even had to wipe the tears from his eyes. “Playing both sides, aren’t we? Do be careful, Molls. We all knew what happened to the last one who did that.” He gave her a knowing look which Molly ignored the bait. Moriarty brushed it off and exhaled a long singing sigh.

“At least I had my share of fun until you arrived! What a killjoy. Well, since I’m ‘dying’, grant me my last wish and tell me who you really are, Molls. Legend has it, the youngest ever Consultant for you-know-who? Our monarchy really needed to be more creative in job titles right?” Moriarty giggled at his own comment.

Molly leaned towards the table. “One piece of advice for your mentor too, stay the hell away.”

“Wooo, powerful. That’s just too bad. He always wanted to return to his homeland. He missed ruling the underworld here, so he says.” Moriarty’s expression suddenly changed to a predatory one; wolfish-like though she remained unmoved.

“Then I would be ready for him.” Molly might not be able to control the future but that was one thing she would do anything to make sure of.

“Not if you are dead before he comes back, Molls.” Like the ever-changing weather, Moriarty’s face presently had a wide grin on it which reminded Molly of the Cheshire Cat. “It’s nice meeting you, Molly Hooper but I don’t think that’s your real name, no.” Moriarty shook his head and resembled a child in serious thought.

“More’s the pity you are not on our side. We would have made an awesome team, don’t you think? Time is running past way too fast for my taste. I have lots to prepare for the grand finale as you well know. Ciao!” He promptly stood up and left the café, quickly disappearing into the crowd of people.

“If that’s the case, I would hold on to my last breath and drag Sherrinford Holmes back to where he belongs.” Molly whispered, letting the words being swallowed up by the chatters of her surroundings.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter but this is me testing the waters first. Hope it's not toooo bad for you readers!


	2. Then The Clock Struck Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing of Sherlock BBC.

“You want me to be your plus-one? I thought Anthea always attended functions with you?” Molly lowered her voice after recalling that they were in the Diogenes Club, their usual meet-up venue.

She only officially met Mycroft Holmes when they were planning Sherlock’s ‘death’ but Molly had heard about the British Government ages ago and was in fact quite looking forward to someday cross his path so to speak. When Sherlock left London, there was no longer the need for them to come together but out of nowhere Mycroft invited Molly to come to Diogenes Club for tea and from that day onwards, it became their routine and continued even after Sherlock came back.

“Well yes, however this time round I was singled out and requested quite specifically by the host to not bring subordinates as my date.” The British Government cringed at the word and muttered about experiencing workplace bullying of a different kind. It was definitely a first for Mycroft Holmes to ‘ask people out’ so Molly kindly ended his misery by agreeing to his invitation.

“I’ll be honoured, Mycroft. I just hope I do not embarrass you in front of a roomful of very powerful people in the world.” Molly interlocked her fingers subconsciously.

“Oh no, Molly, merely a handful of somewhat powerful people in United Kingdom. This event is rather small-scale. It’s not the peak season yet, you see.” Mycroft of course noticed her involuntary reaction and his eyes twinkled with a hint of humour.

“And now you are teasing me. Very gentlemanly of you, Mycroft right after I agreed to spend a night with you.” Molly retorted without thinking.

Mycroft’s left eyebrow raised in response.

“God, that sounded so wrong.” Before Molly found herself a hole to hide, Mycroft intercepted smoothly. “Molly, you would be fine. I promise to be your side at all times so nothing would go wrong. Don’t worry.” Molly believed in him, she always would but at the same time, she could never be truthful to him. Molly smiled at Mycroft, sweeping her worries away like a coward.

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t until the next day Molly remembered she did not have an evening gown for tonight so she was relieved when Mycroft sent one of his minions to deliver one. It fitted Molly perfectly and looking at the brand, cost at least a few thousand pounds.

Mycroft must have attended this kind of functions many a times so it was nothing special for him but for her, it was immensely so and only because of him. Molly knew she was treading on dangerous waters here but she wanted to be 'free' and not worry about anything else for one night.

Unlike his brother who preferred to break into her flat, Mycroft was mannered enough to knock on the door. Molly looked into the mirror for one last time, making sure that her hair, swept to the side, was in place before opening it.

“You looked beautiful, Molly. The money was certainly well spent.” Mycroft’s eyes shone with appreciation and that boosted her confidence as a woman.

“Tomorrow I would send the dress for dry-cleaning and return it to you then you could…” Molly stopped herself when Mycroft gave her a look that simply said ‘the British Government do NOT ask for refunds.’

“Consider it as a thank-you for willing to be my partner for the ball. Now I think it’s time to go if we do not want to be late.” He bent his elbow and Molly carefully slipped her arm through his, not wanting to winkle his sleeve.

Perhaps she was too old for fairy tales but Molly felt like Cinderella tonight. One thing’s different though, she was not going to the ball to find her Prince Charming. Molly sneaked a glance at Mycroft looking very suave indeed in his tuxedo.

Upon arrival at the centuries-old castle, Molly started to regret her decision. As a Consultant, she was used to staying in the background to observe, analyse and advise. Sensing her apprehension, Mycroft patted her hand which was resting on his elbow in an attempt to relax Molly. Their eyes locked and she drew in a deep breath when their names were announced.

Molly opened her mouth in an unladylike manner as she looked at the huge chandelier hanging in the middle of the hall and the stunning flora decorations placed all over the ballroom. “And you said this was a small event.” She whispered to Mycroft.

“Define small.” Molly rolled her eyes and hoped no one saw that. “Don’t think too much and just enjoy.” Mycroft whispered back and she realized how close they were actually standing together. “Easy for you to say.” Molly grumbled, trying to hide her blush while Mycroft grinned in return.

Throughout the night, she did not feel left out even though people were constantly coming up to talk to him. They were polite enough although Molly could see that they were curious about her as they kept looking at her direction but did not further question out of respect for Mycroft Holmes. It was interesting to watch him in his element, confident and at ease.

When the quartet started to play the waltz music, Mycroft apologised to the man he was currently conversing with and extended a hand to Molly. “People did not say they attended a ball and not danced. I trust you know how to waltz?” Molly nodded and found it hard to stop smiling as they walked into the dancing area.

“Did you have fun tonight?” Deep down, Molly loved the waltz as she found it romantic, where as long as the dance could last; the world seemed to shrink and only left the two of them with no one to break the spell.

“I probably would not have the chance to do this again so thank you, Mycroft. I enjoyed myself tonight and I would never forget this.” Besides the man she was dancing with, Molly’s radiant smile was successful in capturing the attention of everyone else in attendance.

Then Mycroft surprised her by giving an impromptu twirl and a playful dip at the end of the dance. Molly covered her mouth to prevent from laughing out too loud and his eyes crinkled, reflecting her expression in a more subtle tone. “I understand you have the morning shift tomorrow and we should retire soon.” Alas, all things come to an end, especially the good ones.

After bidding their goodbyes to the host and hostess, they waited at the foyer for the car to arrive. Cold wind found its way and Molly rubbed her hands against her bare arms. Ever a keen man, Mycroft saw her action and went to remove his jacket.

Molly turned her head in surprise as she felt the heaviness of a jacket being draped on her. Their noses nearly touched and if one of them moved a little more closer, their lips would meet. Recovering himself, Mycroft took a step back. Molly hid her disappointment and grabbed the lapels to pull them closer so it wouldn’t fall off her shoulders. The jacket was still warm from his body heat and smelled of him, a mixture of cologne and sand wood.

During the ride to her flat, neither of them spoke and Molly, lulled by the car moving steadily in the night, started to doze off. Mycroft looked up from his phone from time to time to keep any eye on her in case Molly moved around too much during her sleep and accidently hurt herself when the vehicle turned or stopped at traffic lights.

The car stopped in front of her flat. Looking at Molly, Mycroft frowned at the crease between her brows. She might have fallen asleep but it wasn’t a peaceful one for reasons unknown to him. An idea suddenly popped up into Mycroft’s mind, wanting to do everything within his means to smooth that away. Surprised, Mycroft wondered where did that thought came from then shook his head before alighting the vehicle to wake Molly up from the other side of the car.

Molly rubbed her eyes and groggily stepped out of the vehicle. In her sleepy haze, Molly tripped over the curb, twisting her ankle but luckily Mycroft was there to catch her and carried Molly bridal style into the flat. After she wrestled with the keys to open the door, Mycroft placed Molly on the sofa. “How’s your ankle?” He asked while bending on one knee to have a better look at it. Molly slowly rotated her ankle and decided that it was not too serious an injury, a mere sprain.

Mycroft then stood back up and walked towards the door to let himself out. “Wait!...Would you like to…Do you want to stay here for the night?” Molly's hand moved across the sofa to calm her rapidly beating heart. “Do _you_ want me to, Molly?” Mycroft did not want to be taking advantage of her because she got caught up with everything that happened tonight.

“Gladly”

If all Molly could have was a night with him then she would make the best of it. Mycroft made a quick call to his driver that his services were no longer required until tomorrow morning and removed his clothing, placing them neatly on a chair.

He gently pulled Molly up from the sofa, “Lean on me. We do not want your sprain to worsen.” before kissing her. Their tongues playfully fought for dominance as his hands explored the contours of Molly’s body. After undressing her, Mycroft once again carried Molly to her room and resumed their kissing on the bed.

They broke apart when their lungs desperately screamed for air. Feeling insecure, Molly tried to cover herself with a blanket but Mycroft stopped her. “I meant what I said. You are beautiful, Molly and probably too good for me. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” _I’m the one who do not deserve you, Mycroft_. If she did not fall in love with him before this, Molly does now.

Their lovemaking was unhurried; taking the time to enjoy every delightful friction and savouring the entire process. It was beautiful in the most primitive manner imaginable and Molly would always treasure it. She only wished that time could stop right here and daylight never to arrive.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wished to retain some of Molly's personality, being somewhat awkward and shy in a endearing way. That's why she's my favourite character in the show because she felt realistic enough if you could understand what I'm trying to say? 
> 
> If you found this chapter too soppy, I'm sorry about it but *spoiler alert* this is probably the only time where it could be overly sweet in this story....


	3. We All Do Silly Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing of Sherlock BBC.

They were not ‘boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend’, Mycroft felt he was too old for that and Molly was fine with it. It was just a term. Being the British Government, he was always busy so they rarely had time to meet up and Mycroft was glad that Molly did not complain about it unlike other women which might.  

It was the week before Christmas and Molly was examining a male body that was suspected of being silenced by a criminal gang. Sherlock was also in St Bart’s to use the lab for his experiments. “Hmm…a shoot to his head from the back, execution style. A typical method of killing used by the gangs.” Sherlock walked into the morgue to ask Molly where she hid the microscope this time round and conveniently gave his input.  

“That’s what I thought too but I would leave the investigation to the police and you. Although from the gang’s point of view, I could see why they would want to do that. Only the dead couldn’t talk. The hold and power that man had over them could then be totally eliminated.” Molly explained while taking off her gloves, concluding the end of the autopsy.

“Interesting ideas you have here, Molly. Remind me not to offend you. Now, where did you keep the microscope? I need it urgently for my experiments.” With that tone of his, people would think he was actually demanding for it.

“And here I thought you would insult me at every chance possible even if you didn’t mean it to be one. Ask me again, Sherlock, nicely this time then maybe I would recollect where I placed it.” After a long day at work, Molly was hungry and went straight to the cafeteria.

“Women and their sensitivity” Sherlock complained quietly. “I heard that, Sherlock Holmes!” Molly turned her head and shouted in reply. He made a face behind her back and decided to follow Molly until she gave in and returned the microscope to him.

To others, it was after his ‘death’ that Molly appeared to stop being infatuated with Sherlock but all along, it was merely a cover. Believe it or not, it was a coincidence that Molly got to know Sherlock. Even if she did not, someone else would be placed near his side to keep track of him for Sherlock could easily go out of control despite his brother watching. It was just as well that Sherlock could care less about her ‘feelings’ for him and Molly also did not want Mycroft to misunderstand.

 

* * *

 

“You were too rash, Sherlock.” Molly mumbled harshly. The latest name on her ‘list’ was Charles Augustus Magnussen and for months now, Molly considered the many ways on how to handle this man but could not come up with the prefect solution, especially with Sherlock gotten himself involved and Mycroft in a precarious position because of his brother, until she received the news of Sherlock killing Magnussen shortly after it happened.

Mycroft invited Molly to go to his parents’ house for Christmas but she declined and told him about having to visit her great-aunt in Northampton and knew he would be too worried about Sherlock to realise that was a blatant lie.

Molly thought she just needed more time for deal with Magnussen so for now it would be best if she stayed away from the Holmes brothers. Furthermore, Mycroft and John would be with Sherlock and they could look after him so he would not be up to any more mischief. Then the world’s only consulting detective had to go and killed that man.  

Mycroft as the British Government naturally made more foes than friends and Sherlock’s ways of doing things certainly did not make people like him at all. With Magnussen dead, a man under the supposed protection of the government only gave those people a legitimate reason to ruin the Holmes brothers once and for all. According to Molly’s information, Sherlock’s head would be on the chopping board first.

_Your cover had been compromised._

_-RO_

Someone knocked the door and Molly instinctively knew who it was. Looking at the text, she knew that the day would come where the truth would reveal itself but Molly was also in love enough to naïvely hope for that day to arrive much, much later. With a silent sigh, she opened the door.

“Louise Eliza Hayes, that’s your real name, is it not? You managed to pull the wool over my eyes for so long and here I thought I found…” Mycroft stopped in mid-sentence. “You are very much mistaken if you think because you are from the Royal Office; you could get away with it.” Molly was confused at his remark. “Maybe I should help you jolt your memory, only the dead couldn’t talk? You instigated Sherlock to kill Magnussen for you!”

“What made you think Sherlock was so susceptible to my insinuation?” Hurt by his accusation, Molly questioned Mycroft angrily.  

“You underestimated him.” He sneered and Molly could feel her heart breaking.

“And you overestimated yourself, Mycroft.” Trying to hide the pain caused by the infuriating man standing in front of her, Molly countered. She pretended to not notice tears swimming in her eyes when Molly heard the door slam shut, signalling the inevitable had finally happened where Mycroft Holmes walked out of her life permanently. Molly knew he would never forgive her for lying to him.

The priority now was to save Sherlock so Molly hurriedly made her way to the Royal Office. “If he is available now, I would wish to see him. It would not take too long.” She never entered this place unless necessary but Molly had to take her chances. “I will convey your request, Consultant.” The secretary replied briskly. The double mahogany doors soon opened and Molly stepped into the room. The man seated behind the table gestured to the chair in front of him.

“I am here to plead on behalf of Sherlock Holmes. Had Magnussen lived, he would become too much of a threat to the monarchy and eventually too powerful to control. I understand Magnussen was not to be touched but nevertheless his death was no way a bad thing for us. On account of the contributions of the Holmes family for generations, please help him.” This meeting might backfire badly. They were taught to be impartial and not bring personal emotions into work. 

“Louise, I believed I had warned you before. Do not get too emotionally attached to the Holmes Boys, especially Mycroft Holmes. Break the rule and suffer the consequences. We would hate to lose you like this. The Royal Office would not be implicated into this matter, do you understand? This would be the last I would hear of Sherlock Holmes, dead or alive.” With that, Molly was dismissed. What her superior did not know was it already was too late; she wandered too far away.

From what she gathered, Mycroft convinced them not to officially convict Sherlock and instead he would go on a suicide mission. Molly was warned to stay out of it but how could she just watch and not do anything? Sherlock meant too much to Mycroft even if he would never admit it.

Molly was present too when Sherlock boarded the plane. It must be terrifying; knowing that he was sent to die for real this time. Molly sincerely hoped that Sherlock had learnt his lesson or else what she was going to do next would be in vain.

Soon after the plane took off, Moriarty was broadcasted on all TV screens in London. It was apparently important enough to recall Sherlock and temporarily put his death trip on hold while Molly was called back to the Royal Office immediately.

Molly’s superior frowned deeply at her when she entered his room. “I had let you down, Sir.” Molly did not regret her actions but she did felt guilty about it. Molly became an orphan at a fairly young age and they were her second family yet what she did was akin to betrayal, defying direct orders like that.

“You had let the Royal Office down. We were very disappointed in you, Louise. You threw  _everything_ away for them.” The man shook his head and pushed a file towards her. From the start, Molly knew of the consequences and was prepared to face them. Holding the file in one hand, Molly bowed deeply to the man whom she secretly regarded as a father-like figure and left.

Walking on the streets, she could hear the constant reporting by different news stations of Jim Moriarty’s apparent return to London. Looking up, Molly wondered just how much she missed Mycroft for her to wander to the Diogenes Club like a lost puppy. Before she could turn and leave, Molly was invited inside.

She moved towards his room with ease as memories of her spending time here with Mycroft flashed through Molly’s mind. “Take a seat…” Mycroft stood up from his chair but was unsure of what to call her. “Just call me Molly will do.” They actually sounded like a pair of strangers but she found it hard to laugh about it. Seated, Molly looked at Mycroft and was not surprised to see him a little under the weather. He must be exhausted, trying hard to rescue Sherlock from death sentence.

“I couldn't thank you enough. I knew it was you who ‘brought back’ Moriarty.” Such formality. How did they come to this? It was too late to change anything now.

“After all, I instigated Sherlock to kill Magnussen. The least I could do was to free him from the charges.” Molly could not help but act like a child in front of him.

“I’m sorry that I actually said that, Molly. My mind was not thinking straight at that point of time.” Whatever resentment she had towards Mycroft was gone in an instant. 

“It was the best I could come up with but not enough to let him walk as a free man again. The last update I got was Sebastian Moran currently is trying to restore the former glory of Moriarty’s criminal empire. He would be the perfect scapegoat for the broadcast and if Sherlock succeeded in capturing him, it would prove that he is still useful enough to be kept alive, as crude as it sounds.” Molly shrugged her shoulders at the suggestion but it was worth a try.

“Sherrinford might be up to something soon. I’m not sure what or when but seeing this is a sensitive time, he might just take advantage of it.” Molly had to warn Mycroft before leaving even though she knew it was a taboo topic. Then Mycroft noticed the file Molly placed on the table when she first arrived. The significance of Molly receiving her file from the Royal Office became clear to him.

“I’m sorry that I lied to you, Mycroft but you needed to know that everything else was true.”

This should be the last time she would see him yet Molly could not find anything to say except to apologise for what could have gone right for them but did not. Without waiting for his reply, Molly exited the room. Minutes passed and Mycroft Holmes continued to stare into space, feeling for the first time a sense of helplessness. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Errr...enjoy?


	4. All Lives End, All Hearts Broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing of Sherlock BBC.

Months had passed and thanks to his successful capture of Sebastian Moran for the government, for now Sherlock was safe. It was also time for Molly’s plan to start, she had prepared long enough for it.

Being an easily contented baby, Stella Hannah Watson presently happily babbling to herself, was having a lot of fun on her own. Molly picked Stella up and the baby smiled, proudly showing her gums and the sight nearly broke the dam of Molly’s tears.  

Molly jumped when she saw him at the doorway. “Sherlock, what are you doing here? Looking for John? John and Mary went out for a date. I’m babysitting Stella for them.” The silence was further enlarged when Sherlock did not reply her, staring at her still. Molly reassured herself that Sherlock could not have known of her plan; she had made sure of it. Molly continued her one sided conversation, “It is Stella’s bedtime now. I need to put her to bed.” and went up the stairs.

John and Mary came back soon after, not wanting to stay away from their new-born for too long even though they knew she was in good hands. They reached the top of the stairs and to their surprise, found Sherlock standing outside Stella’s room.  

“Sherlock, came to see your goddaughter?” John asked good-naturedly. He saw how Sherlock had changed for the better after the Magnussen incident and hoped he would stay that way.

“Yes and now you two are back, Molly and I are off then. Good night.” Sherlock grabbed Molly’s arm and saw themselves out. John and Mary looked at each other but both put it down as Sherlock’s usual quirks and proceeded to retire for bed after seeing their daughter sleeping soundly.

“You once talked about looking sad when you think no one can see you…” The two walked side by side and no words were exchanged until Sherlock broke the ice.

“You can see me.” Molly stopped in her tracks and turned towards him.

“I don’t count.” Sherlock said matter-of-factly. Molly realized who he was talking about and looked away.

“I never said it before but I’ve always trusted you, Molly.” What she did for him was worth it. Even if it was not for Mycroft, she would still do the same thing to save Sherlock.

“Promise me that you would lay low until all this had blown over. Don’t let everything I did be rendered to nothing, Sherlock and never blame yourself for a choice that I made. Stay safe, I know Mycroft will always look after you but you cannot be so reckless anymore. Your loss would break his heart.” Molly reached out to kiss his cheek. Perhaps it would be easier if she fell in love with Sherlock instead but love was never about taking the easy route.

“What about yours, Molly?” Sherlock asked in return. “My heart would survive it.” _Liar_. Her smile tainted with sadness betrayed Molly but for once, Sherlock chose not to expose it.

 

* * *

 

After her bath, Molly opened the cabinet and took out a vial. The liquid in it shook vigorously then she realized it was because her hand that held it was trembling. One thing Molly learnt was that in life there were many things beyond our control and all the more we must control what we could. At least she got to plan how Molly Hooper died.

It would be painless and quick or so she was told. The poison tasted bitter and Molly drained it down with water. You could call her cruel but Molly intended for Sherlock to be the first person to see her dead. Using the last of her consciousness, Molly sent Sherlock a draft message from her phone.

_Peter Pan_

_\- Molly_

During those years when the world thought he was dead, Sherlock sporadically used her flat as a bolthole and Molly once joked about texting him ‘Peter Pan’ if she was ever in danger and needed his help. Unable to resist the effects of the poison, she collapsed to the ground and all Molly could hear was her heartbeat pounding loudly in her ears.

“…My…Mycroft…” Her body instinctively went in survival mode and she gasped loudly, trying to breath in more air. Disoriented, Molly panicked and called out the only name that was on her mind before everything turned black.

It took Sherlock exactly thirteen minutes and twenty-five seconds to arrive and break into her flat. He phoned for an ambulance but Sherlock knew it was too late, Molly was already dead.

 

* * *

 

The light drizzle heightened the melancholy atmosphere for those present to send Molly Hooper off. Stella’s loud cries that echoed throughout the cemetery did not make the burial any easier to deal with. “She’s still so young. This is not right…” Mrs. Hudson sniffed and Greg patted her shoulder for comfort while discreetly rubbed his eyes.

To justify for her sudden death, the official autopsy labelled Molly Hooper’s cause of death as a genetic heart condition and one day her heart just stopped working. With his arm around Mary who carried a finally subdued Stella, John kept a watchful eye on Sherlock that stood some distance away. He took the hardest hit among them even if Sherlock did not show it; he was the one who found Molly dead and must had blamed it on himself for not noticing Molly having a hereditary heart condition.

As a doctor, John also felt responsible for not realizing in time that something was wrong with Molly then maybe the outcome would be different. But those things were hard to be detected unless the patient themselves felt something amiss with their body. Sighing internally at how fast a life could end; John kissed Mary’s head, grateful for his family.

Mycroft watched the handful of people slowly walking away from her grave after the funeral ended and heads were turned back at different points of time, reluctant to leave the cheerful and strong Molly there by herself.

Courtesy demanded him to pay his respects but Mycroft felt that he did not deserve the right so standing from afar, Mycroft gazed at her grave until his vision turned hazy. In the situation where he could only save one, Mycroft chose Sherlock over Molly so she paid the price with her life and he his heart.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate me!  
> Also, the medical aspect is probably all incorrect so I'll just apologise about it first.


	5. Did You Miss Me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing of Sherlock BBC.

_Three months later_

**SHERLOCK HOLMES’S PATHOLOGIST IN CAHOOTS WTH JIM MORIARTY**

That was the headline that appeared on the newspaper one morning. It talked about how the recently deceased Molly Hooper was Jim Moriarty’s partner in crime and succeeded in fooling the consulting detective right until her death. The article implied that she fell in love with Sherlock Holmes and could not bear all the lies and guilt anymore so Molly Hooper killed herself. There was even a picture taken from a CCTV where according to the newspaper, Hooper and Moriarty conversing in a café called Fox shortly after his release from the Court.

As expected, John rushed to 221B angrily and talked about the possibility of suing that reporter who wrote the article. “Molly would never do that. She’s…Molly. Damn it! Those people have no ounce of respect for the dead! It’s been only three months since…God, it’s been three months that she…” 

PRIVATE NUMBER

_Remember what you promised me, Sherlock._

His phone vibrated indicating a message was received and upon reading it, Sherlock smirked and instantly replied while half-listening to John’s monologue.

_When it’s convenient._

_\- SH_

Snapped out of his sadness by Sherlock’s texting, John fairly shouted at him. “How could you be so nonchalant about this? This is Molly Hooper we are talking about here; the woman who helped faked your death and being ever so loyal to you now being publicly maligned!”

“Do you trust Molly?” Caught off guard by Sherlock’s seemingly random question, John sputtered out an “Of course, you dick!” which he then replied easily, “As long those who mattered to Molly believed in her, this article is nothing but plain nonsense because _we_ know the truth. I know she would not want us to be angry over it.”  

Calmed down, John solemnly nodded and looking at him, imagined how proud Molly would be if she could see how much Sherlock had transformed then left for the clinic after mentioning about coming here later on with Mary and Stella.

 

* * *

 

_On the night of Molly Hooper’s death_

_“I need to die tonight. Would you…help me?” She winced at the voice that quivered upon uttering those words. Just because you could see death coming did not mean that you would not be afraid of it._

_“Do you want to die, Molly?” Funny how no one asked her that. A twinge of pain coursed through her still-beating heart._

_“That’s not fair. I did not ask you that when you ‘died’. Sherlock, it’s part of playing the game, you have to follow the rules.” Molly’s attempt to make light of things fell flat as the atmosphere between them became oppressed._

_She took out a vial and a piece of paper containing a phone number from her pocket then gave it to Sherlock. “When you see me later, inject this into my body and call this number. An ambulance would come and pick me up. They would take care of the rest. Remember what you promised me.”_

_Before walking back to her flat, Molly spoke earnestly. “I trust you too, Sherlock. I always would”._

 

* * *

 

_L_ _ouise was given seven days to live, if she survived then she could resume her real identity and given the chance to start afresh with a totally new life but of course, Louise would have to cut off all ties from her past in order for that to happen._

_“H-how did the fu-funeral go?” Louise managed to wake up on the sixth day. Looking at the man sitting by the bed, she struggled to speak with her hoarse voice._

_“All according to plan.” It was a success then. Exhausted, she closed her eyes and for a spilt second, half-heartedly wished this was a dream._

It wasn’t a dream. Molly Hooper was dead and she would now live as Louise Hayes. Everything felt surreal but she had to get used to it. This is her life now, her only one left.

“Treasure your second chance, child.” Her mentor announced and being by his side for so long, Louise knew he was also warning her. If only her gut instinct was not right about one thing.

“Damn you, Sherrinford” Louise stared hard at the headline with her hands grabbing tightly at both sides of the newspaper, effectively crumpling it. Afraid the Sherlock might do something silly, she decided to contact him. After reading his reply, Louise was relieved. If Sherlock could joke about it then he should be fine.

“It would seem that you made it a habit to break every single rule, Louise! You didn't need me to tell you that you probably would not live for very long considering the poison you took despite the neutralizer. I treated you like my own and it breaks my heart to see you throw away your life for them just like that. Take it as I beg of you, whatever time you have left, spend it peacefully, child.”

Louise kneeled by the side of the chair where her mentor sat and placed her head on his knee. His hands brushed through her hair now cut short. “Sherrinford is coming back and he would not stop until he got what he wanted, Sherlock. I did not sacrifice everything for him to still die in the end. I also do not want the Royal Office to have a headache because of that man. I promise you, Sir that everything would be fine.”      

Louise raised her head and swallowed her tears as she held one of his hands which wizened with age, never realizing how old her mentor actually was until now. She composed herself before continuing.

“I just need you to withhold this information from Mycroft as long as possible. Now he should be in Geneva busy attending conferences so it should not be too difficult. The fact that I’m still alive would be a pleasant surprise for Sherrinford, especially how he tried to use me to taunt his brothers, and should be able to entice him to come out and play. You believe in me right?”

Her mentor patted Louise’s head. “Of course, child. I never stopped doing that.”

 

* * *

 

“They could have chosen a better picture of me and they called me your pathologist like I’m an object belonging to you.” Louise remarked, looking again at the newspaper in 221B. “I know you are a man of your words even though sometimes you act like otherwise. As promised, you would continue to keep a low profile and this matter would be taken care of.”

Sherlock snorted “And how would this matter be taken care of?”

“You said that you would always trust me, Sherlock.” Louise put the newspaper away and sat down. “You are not playing fair.” He harrumphed and plonked down on the sofa beside Louise. “Life’s usually not.” She replied and showed Sherlock her brightest smile.

“I could see that everyone missed you, especially him.” Louise’s smile disappeared the moment he said that. “Sherlock, we are not going in that direction.” Before he could give a smart retort, the door opened.

The air stilled as John recognised who that woman was even though her hair was cut short and dressed differently now. “Your place is a terrible bolthole, Sherlock.” Louise barely finished her sentence then John punched him in the eye.

“What the hell, John? I’m not the one who faked my death this time round!” Sherlock screeched while Louise rubbed her forehead tiredly. “You knew! All this time, you knew and watched us suffered from the loss of Molly! Besides, I couldn’t well hit her right?”

John turned to Louise and pointed. “And you! Don’t think we are going to let you off the hook that easily. Mary is so going to kill you.” As if on cue, Mary and Stella appeared at the door and calmly walked towards them. Mary handled the child over to her husband. “Cover Stella’s eyes and ears, John.”       

Louise was struck so hard, she could see stars then suddenly pulled into a tight hug. “Don’t you dare do this again, Molly Hooper!” Maybe coming back here was a mistake but she missed them so much, she really did. “I’m no longer Molly Hooper, she’s dead now. My real name is Louise Hayes.” The truth seemed to soothe everyone. “Well, I don’t care who you are so long you are fine.” Mary released her from the embrace and snuffled.

“Getting soft aren’t we?” In an attempt to lighten the atmosphere, Louise teased and was sternly warned by Mary. “Don’t push your luck!” She smiled cheekily and went over to John. “I’m so sorry. Forgive me?” Louise’s question was answered with a one-arm hug as he was still carrying Stella while ignoring Sherlock’s sarcasm, “How very forgiving of you, John. Considering how you strangled and gave me a nosebleed but still ignored me after I came back."    

Safely in her father’s arms, the child looked at Louise curiously. “My, she had grown. Hello, Stella, do you still remember me?” After staring at her long enough, Stella seemed to have finally recognised Louise and stretched out her arms. Louise immediately obliged, loving the feeling of having a baby in her arms. It’s almost therapeutic.

“Now talk.” Louise returned Stella to Mary and adamantly shook her head. “No, you two are parents now. Think of your daughter. I cannot let you be involved in this. The both of you are no longer in the army or an assassin anymore. Don’t worry.”    

 

* * *

 

Scanning the newspaper article, Louise circled all the numbers that appeared in it and proceed to call Sherrinford Holmes. “It’s the Consultant, oh wait, ex-but-still-alive Consultant. It must be nice to have the Head of Royal Office as your mentor. I imagined you must be quite angry about what was written and wished to seek redress about it?” The night view from St Bart’s rooftop was beautiful pity there was no time to enjoy the scene.

“You were the one who set Magnussen close after Sherlock’s heels. You knew putting too much pressure and pushing him too far would bring adverse effects, like snatching a child’s favourite toy away. You set Sherlock up by forcing him to kill Magnussen so he had to pay for what he did but your plan didn’t work so instead you used Molly Hooper in hopes that Sherlock would go after you and try to kill you then no one could save him from another death sentence…”

“More or less correct but don’t sound so condescending. You Consultants and the Royal Office did your fair share of dirty things too. My poor Jim died too young and it’s all because of you! You should not have saved my little brother, he deserved to die. Once I settled him, I could move on to my other all high and mighty brother who foolishly thought he could just banish me. Then as a salute for your valiant efforts, maybe my next target would be that old man of yours, hmm?”  

“Don’t you even dare to think about it, Sherrinford.” Louise quickly drew out her gun and aimed it at him. “Like what Moriarty said, not if you are dead. I promised your disciple that I would hold on to my last breath to wait for you. There is one type of person you should be afraid of, the dying ones who had everything to lose and lost. If I kill you then all problems would be gone...” Her index finger went to touch the trigger, ready to fire.  

“Drop your weapon! Drop your weapon now and put your hands up! Now!” The flurry of armed men rushing to the rooftop and the shouting did not shock Louise. She knew that Sherlock and John would not listen to her and do nothing about it; they could never stay too far away from the action. Louise smiled to herself and placed the gun on the ground then raised her arms in the air as instructed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Molly Hooper too much for her to die like that in the previous chapter but as mentioned, eventually she still would be gone but I would do my very best to give her a proper ending :)  
> And I also hope that you readers would get used to seeing her as 'Louise'.


	6. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing of Sherlock BBC.

“I had chosen quite a nice little spot, did I not? And yes, the coffin was empty; it did not felt right to place a Jane Doe in it. In a way, said person never existed and the grave should reflect that.” The cemetery in the afternoon projected a sense of tranquillity.    

“To me, you do exist. Be it Molly Hooper or Louise Hayes.” Yet the words uttered by Mycroft Holmes succeeded in creating a ripple among the calmness.

“I decided to travel around the world. I had been to many places before but never for leisure.” Louise declared for no particular reason. It was what she always wanted to do and time was no longer on her side.

“Perhaps I should join you. It was also my dream to travel widely and like you, I never had the chance to do it in the name of leisure. You would be the right partner for me.” Mycroft talked about it as if they were discussing the weather when so many things were at stake.

“What about being the British Government? What about Sherlock?” Louise thought he was simply patronizing her and questioned him in a joking manner.  

“I dedicated most of my adulthood to Great Britain and believed that I had done my part for the country so from now on, I want to live for myself and to kick start, I had already submitted my resignation. As for Sherlock, he is a grown man and long time for him to take care of himself.” Taken aback, Louise whirled to him and looking into Mycroft’s eyes, she could tell that he was serious about it.

“I don’t even know how much time I got left, Mycroft.” If he was shocked by her revelation, Mycroft certainly did not show it. Instead he took her hand and tenderly kissed it.

“Then we shall make the best of it, my love.” To prove his point and show his determination, Mycroft proceeded to kiss Louise’s forehead, eyes, nose and finally her mouth. Every kiss was a promise to her that every moment they spent together would be treasured and most importantly, to have no regrets.

 

* * *

 

_Six years later, Christmas Eve_

221B was at its full swing of celebration and even Sherlock was secretly enjoying it. The kids were enjoying themselves while the adults sat down for ‘Christmas drinkies’ like what Molly used to say. Without her and even Mycroft, every gathering of the Baker Street family felt incomplete but it’s been six years since they left London and yet still no news of them.        

Three rapid knocks were sounded. Seeing that Sherlock was immersed in playing his violin, John went to answer the door and thinking to himself that it was probably Greg able to make it for the party at the last minute.

“Mycroft? Where have you been all these bloody years? Where’s…” John’s question broke off when he realized that Mycroft was holding the hand of a little girl wearing a pink coat, looking like a miniature Molly except for her auburn hair.  

“May we come in, John?” The doctor sobered and hurriedly stepped away from the door to let the pair enter. The flat quieten down upon sight of the new arrivals. Mycroft began to introduce the adults present in the room to the little girl.  

“Luna, this is Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock’s landlady but was always treated like a maid by him. Don’t follow his bad manners. That man who very kindly opened the door for us is John Watson, your godfather but he does not know that until now and the lady walking towards us is his wife, Mary Watson, your godmother.”

Mary stopped right in front of Luna and squatted down, stroking her cheeks fondly. “Hello, Luna. I’m sorry that I only met you now but I promise that we would see each other much more often, alright sweetheart? Do you know that you looked just like your mother?”

Luna wiped the tears away albeit clumsy from Mary’s face. “Daddy always says that too. Don’t cry, Mummy would not like it.” Then she moved on to Sherlock who had stopped playing the violin the moment they arrived and was now staring intently at her.

“You must be Uncle Locky. Mummy said that you are very tall, almost as tall as Daddy but has dark curly hair instead and you may be rude sometimes but actually you are quite nice.”

Sherlock crouched to her eye level and ‘scanned’ the little girl. “You are left-handed. Your favourite drink is hot chocolate. You love pink, obviously and hate vegetables, understandable. You are musically inclined, like me of course and you inherited your hair colour from your father but luckily the rest from your mother so you would be as smart, kind and beautiful as her, Luna.” He finished off his deduction with a kiss on her forehead which Luna giggled and also made a deduction of her own. “You’re funny, Uncle Locky.”

In Sherlock’s mind palace, a room named Luna Holmes (he assumed his niece took their name) was created right beside the one labelled ‘Molly Hooper/Louise Hayes’ and every detail about the little girl was carefully catalogued, organized and stored with plenty of room for future information to be included for compilation.

Sherlock also updated his mental family photo with Luna sitting in between her grandparents and the rest of them stood behind. His parents, Louise and Luna all had ridiculous bright smiles on their faces whereas the brothers were trying hard to pretend that they were enjoying the photo-taking session but deep down wanted it to be over this instant.

Sensing the slightly sad atmosphere, the children stopped their playing and stood in one corner, looking at the newcomers with deep interest. Before Mary could introduce Luna to the kids, Molly Watson took it upon herself. “Hi, I’m Molly. This is Stella, my elder sister, William my twin brother and Eric, Uncle Sherlock’s latest protégé.” Molly beamed as she successfully enunciate the very difficult last word.

“Hello, Molly. I’m Luna. Nice to meet you!” Just like that, the two girls became instant friends. “Do you want to play hide-and-seek?” Luna turned and looked at her father for permission. “Go on, poppet.” Mycroft smiled in encouragement, glad that his daughter was able to settle down in an unfamiliar environment fast. Sometimes, children do much better than adults at some things. Molly grabbed Luna’s hand and ran to one of the rooms. The other kids immediately followed them with choruses of “Wait for me!”

“So, this is permanent then?” Mary asked when bringing a drink to Mycroft, preferring for Luna to stay not too far away from them.

_“Go back to London and stay there. Luna needs her grandparents, uncle and godparents. They would also help you bring up her. We had fond memories there too. I want Luna to know the place where we met and fell in love.” Louise knew her time here was coming to an end. When that happens, she did not want Mycroft to be alone in facing it but he would be fine, he has Luna now._

“Yes, she wanted us to stay close to where you all are.” Everyone picked up of how Mycroft spoke of Louise in past tense. Mary nodded and turned the other way with her eyes looking up at the ceiling, not wanting to cry again at this supposedly festive occasion. Being a mother did make her soft as predicated by Louise six years ago, damn her.

 

* * *

 

It was a long night for Mycroft as he wearily walked up the stairs after sending Luna to her own room, telling her to change into her pyjamas and brush her teeth before going to sleep with the promise to later come and tuck her into bed.             

In the past, Mycroft never felt that his bedroom was too big for him but it was now, empty even. Suddenly overwhelmed by the intense emotion of missing her, he opened the drawer and took out a ring box.

_“Marry me, my dear.” Mycroft with an earnest expression, opened the box and reveal a ring to her. Louise cupped his cheeks and kissed him deeply but slowly shook her head._

_“I don’t want you to be a widower because of me, Mycroft. When I’m gone, I need you to move on, not held back by me. Besides, our love does not need a paper to verify its existence.”_

_Over the years, Mycroft popped the question for so many times he had lost count. During breakfast, lunch or dinner, during their walks, during their birthdays, during Easter, Christmas or New Year's Day, when Louise told him that she’s pregnant, when they went for the first and subsequent ultrasounds, when Luna was born, during their daughter’s birthdays._

_The answer Louise gave him was always the same. With every rejection, Mycroft would smile and fondly scold her, “What a stubborn woman you are, my love.” where Louise would always respond with “The same could be said of you, Mr Holmes.” And the process would repeat itself some time again._

_The last time Mycroft asked Louise to marry him was the day she passed away. Louise did not reject it and instead asked Mycroft to keep this ring for their daughter, passing it down as a family heirloom which he questioned, “How could the ring be one when it was never worn by you?” Mycroft then took out the ring from the box and slid it on Louise’s left ring finger. “There, problem’s solved.”_

_Looking at the ring on her finger, Louise did not say anything nor attempt to remove it but snuggled her head onto Mycroft’s shoulder and he smiled brightly at her silent consent. Louise was still wearing the ring when she died peacefully on that night with Mycroft and Luna by her side._

Reminding himself that Luna was waiting for him to kiss her goodnight, Mycroft carefully put the ring back into the box and closed the drawer. He entered her room to see her reading a book with full concentration. “What storybook are you reading, poppet? I had never seen this before.”

Luna looked up and smiled at her father. “They are recipes of Daddy’s favourite cakes, biscuits and muffins! Mummy said each recipe in this book is my birthday present from her for each year and she gave all of it to me in advance first. Then when it’s your birthday, I could choose one and bake it for you and that would be our birthday present for you Daddy, from Mummy and me! I just hope I could bake as well as her…”

“No matter what you make, Daddy would love and finish every bit of it.” Mycroft wrapped his arm around Luna’s tiny shoulders and tucked her head under his neck, hiding the tears from his daughter. “That’s what Mummy said too.” Luna replied, amazed that her Mummy was right about it.

“Of course, your Mummy knows best. Now go to sleep. Tomorrow morning we would go visit Grandpa and Grandma. They would be thrilled to see you. Good night, poppet. I love you and remember, Mummy also loves you very much even though she’s…not here with us anymore.”

Mycroft placed the book on the side table, pulled the covers right up to Luna’s chin and bent down to kiss her. Excited at the prospects of finally being able to see her grandparents, Luna shut her eyes tightly and hoped for tomorrow to come quickly but not before saying, “Good night and I love you too, Daddy and Mummy.”

Walking back to his room, Mycroft was tired but did not think that he could sleep right now. He promised Louise that he would keep only two of her belongings because she was afraid that he would not be able to walk out of her passing which was fine with Mycroft since he had a photographic memory anyway. One was the ring and the other was the evening gown he brought for her when they went for the ball years ago which felt like yesterday.

When Molly Hooper ‘died’, Louise took nothing away but the dress because, “It contained too precious a memory with you to just leave it there.” Unzipping the garment bag, Mycroft caressed the gown that also evoked many sweet and bitter ones for him and a small box tumbled out of the bag, landing softly on the carpet. He picked it up, move to the bed and sat down before opening it, not sure what to expect from Louise this time round.

Mycroft smiled indulgently at the gold cufflinks shaped like umbrellas and ran his fingers over them but frowned when he felt what seemed to be dots on its surface. _Braille._ His mind swiftly provided the answer and started to automatically translate the words.  

  I    a m   s o r r y

⠠⠊⠀⠁⠍⠀ ⠎⠕⠗⠗⠽

“There is nothing to be sorry about, my dear. I actually have a little confession to make. Six years ago I lied, my dream never was to travel, it was to be with you. I would take good care of our daughter so until then do wait for me.” Mycroft whispered as the first snow of this year fell and landed on the ground soundlessly, a sign that Christmas had arrived at last.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I played hide-and-seek with my younger cousins in our house and we had heaps of fun, I even got my pants wet (don't ask me how) hence I chose this game for the 2nd generation to play on Christmas Eve.
> 
> Secondly, I'm not sure if Braille could be printed on materials other than paper and if the characters are used incorrectly, I apologize for my inaccurateness of it.
> 
> Thirdly, to Hesfialtes, I know you left a comment but deleted it in the end however I still want to explain my decision of not using the archive warnings. It was plainly because I didn't want any spoilers though I think the title itself is kinda a giveaway. Nevertheless, I'm sorry that the story ruined your day but I hoped my ending was not too depressing for you that is if you do come back for the ending...
> 
> Lastly, every story I wrote was a JOY and this is no exception! For all the readers that followed me till its end, I'm very grateful to you all :D


End file.
